


Operation: Get Michael Jaceson

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Michael Jackson (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, F/M, handjobs, sex on the job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cairee Lennox is a renowned reporter for the Times and she's working on the biggest story of her career - Michael Jaceson, a reclusive billionaire who's eccentricity has astounded the public for years. He hasn't given an interview in ten years and this is Cairee's chance to make history. Somehow, it turns out to be a lot more complicated than it first seemed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interview Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaibaSlaveGirl34](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/gifts).



The mansion on LA's countryside was quite impressive, if not intimidating. The gates were massive and wrought iron, held firmly shut with a J in the middle. No one got past unless security let them through.  
Cairee Lennox wasn't intimidated by the mansion. She had been through this routine before with reclusive millionaires. It didn't scare her. They tried to act like they had their own little world that no one else was allowed into.  
Cairee was a reporter for Time and it was her to job to get inside these kinds of places. She found people, especially famous people, interesting. Her profiles of many actors, singers, multimillionaires, and the like were renowned at Time and she thought that this particular profile might be the best of them all. The person that was sequestered behind the these gates was Michael Jaceson. He was not and actor or a singer, but he was a multimillionaire. He had inherited his millions, made wise investments, and accrued more fortune. The only thing, however, was that Mr. Jaceson hardly ever emerged from his looming mansion. When he did, he wore a silk, surgical mask, aviator sunglasses, and a fedora. Someone was always scurrying around behind him, trying to keep a wide umbrella over his head, whatever weather it may be. Long sleeves and high collars were another trademark look of Jaceson. The only skin that ever was seen was the pale, white skin on his hands and sometimes even that was covered with a pair of gloves.  
Cairee had spent months trying to get this interview. Many of her co-workers had told her that they thought it was impossible. Mr. Jaceson had not given an interview in nearly ten years. Cairee herself had found it a hard task, but she was called the Bulldog for a reason. After months of phonecalls, including one hang-up from Mr. Jaceson himself; negotiation, more negotiation; and quite a bit of arguing Cairee finally landed an interview that was a disappointing ten minutes long. Cairee, however, told herself not to be disappointed. It was a miracle that Mr. Jaceson had even agreed to the interview. Ten minutes would have to do. Her months of research would have to supplement the rest of the article.  
Cairee pulled up at the gate and was met by a stern looking man who appeared to have a gun strapped to his hip beneath his jacket.  
“ID.” He ordered.  
Jeez. Cairee thought. What is this? But she didn't argue. The last thing she needed was to ruin this one chance inside of Michael Jaceson's world.  
“I'm a reporter with Time.” She said. “I have an interview with Mr. Jaceson at 1:00.” She tried to say amiably. “He told me that if I wasn't in there at exactly 1:00 then he wouldn't give me the interview.” She added, trying to speed up the man's motions as he looked at her ID. At her words, he smiled as if he knew a private joke then handed her ID back to her.  
“You may go in Miss Lennox. I was told that you would be coming.”  
“Thankyou.” Cairee said, feeling a bit of relief.  
The gates swung open and Cairee pulled into the round driveway. She noted the statue of two children playing in the center and then parked her car. She stepped out in her snake skin, pencil-heeled slingbacks and smoothed her black slacks. She drew in a calming breath before she walked towards the door. Before she reached it, the door swung open. A stone-faced butler stood in doorway, waiting for her as she climbed up three short steps.  
“Miss Lennox.” He said, allowing her inside. He shut the door behind her and asked, “May I offer you something to drink while you wait?”  
“No, that's okay, thank you.” She said, already looking around. They were only in the foyer, which was quite nondescript. The only decoration was a picture of a mother and a child that hung on one wall.  
“Then I'll alert Mr. Jaceson that you have arrived.” He said, turning and leaving her in the foyer. Cairee wished that there was more to look at, but she pulled out her notepad and wrote down a few notes on the house anyways. She was sketching her last sentence when the butler returned.  
“He'll see you now, Miss Lennox.” He said. “Come with me.”  
Cairee followed him, eager to see more of the house, and Mr. Jaceson himself. She wondered if he would still wear the mask and glasses.  
The butler led her down a silent hall that had more pictures and flowers arranged on small tables. Cairee took notes on her notepad and tried to keep up with the butler's quick steps at the same time until they came to a door at the end of the hall. The butler knocked softly first and called out, “Sir, Miss Lennox is here to see you.”  
“Bring her in.” A soft voice replied. The first strains of his voice sent her heart pounding. All these months of waiting and waiting were about to be paid off.  
The butler opened the door and Cairee stepped confidantly forward. She could see that they were in Mr. Jaceson's office, which was also conservatively decorated. A large bay window was covered by thin curtains, allowing in only a little light. In front of the window was a wide, solid oak desk that was decorated by intricate carvings. But what was of most interest to her was the person who sat at the desk. Michael Jaceson.  
As she had predicted, he was wearing the mask and glasses. Despite the fact that she had seen him in photos before, the actual appearance was quite startling. His surgical mask was a deep purple today, and the sunglasses were mirrored, not allowing even one glimpse of his eyes. He wasn't wearing the fedora and his long, dark hair fell down his shoulders. He was wearing a black military style jacket with purple furnishings. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair with his hands folded in front of him. She could almost feel his eyes assessing her from behind the mirrored glasses. Feeling suddenly nervous, Cairee stepped forward and held out a hand. “I'm Cairee Lennox from Time.”  
He didn't move an inch. She saw the surgical mask move slightly with his breath.  
“Have a seat, Miss Lennox.” He said, his soft voice even quieter than before.  
Cairee withdrew her hand and slowly took a seat. His appearance and behavior had thrown her, and suddenly she wasn't sure how to begin. She took out her tape recorder and asked, “Do you mind?”  
“Of course not.” He said, his voice kind. She wanted to believe that Mr. Jaceson was a nice person, but at the moment her heart was racing.  
“Ok then.” She said, taking a deep breath. Turning on the tape recorder, she said, “Cairee Lennox reporting. Subject: profile on Michael Jaceson. Interviewee: Michael Jaceson.” She set the tape recorder down on the edge of his desk and looked down at her notepad. She turned the pages with shaking fingers and found her list of questions.  
“Mr. Jaceson,” She began, looking back up at him. He hadn't moved. She cleared her throat and looked back down at her notes. “You've made your parents' millions into mulitmillions. What's the secret to your success?”  
She thought she sensed him smile beneath the mask but she couldn't be sure. “My secret.” He said. “Its not really a secret. Its the same as my parents. Wise investments, a keen understanding of business, and a bit of God's good will.”  
Cairee nodded, and licked her lips. “You don't come out of your home here often, but your employees seem to be loyal to you. How did you establish your position as head of the company while being virtually invisible?”  
Again she sensed him smile. “Sometimes choosing to stand in front of your subordinates and proclaim your power and position is not the best route. Take Hitler for example. By the end of his reign, the country was living in debt and poverty.”  
“So you're comparing your position to that of a dictator?” The question jumped out of her mouth before she could stop it. She cursed herself immediately. That question had not been in her notes.  
Mr. Jaceson cocked his head at her, and she saw him raise an eyebrow above the glasses.  
“I'm sorry. That wasn't in my notes.” Cairee mumbled, looking back down at her notepad. She nervously tucked some strands of her short, blonde hair behind her ear and said,“Um, next question. “You've given millions to charities, but all of them for children. Why do you believe that this is the best place for your money to be used?”  
“Children are a gift, Miss Lennox, a gift from God. They are innocent and precious. They do not have the mistrust and the flaws that adults have, therefore, they are the purest creature on this earth. They are the future of our world, the most important thing that anyone could have.”  
Cairee felt a bit of her confidence returning after the embarrassing question and went on. “You have children of your own, but no one knows who the mother is. Why did you choose to keep this a secret?”  
“The world can be cruel, quite cruel, Miss Lennox. That should be answer enough.”  
“But it doesn't appear that the she lives here with you or that the children know her either.” Cairee returned. This particular aspect of Mr. Jaceson was quite interesting to her. She had researched long and hard, trying to figure out who the mother of Mr. Jaceson's three children was. She didn't appear anywhere. Some people even questioned the legitimacy of his biological connection to the children.  
She saw him stiffen at the question. “That's not a question, Miss Lennox.” He said quietly.  
“Some people do not believe in your paternity. What do you say to them?” She answered quickly.  
“I say that its not of their business.” Mr. Jaceson replied calmly. “I have chosen to raise my children in the way that I see best. They are quite happy, I assure you.”  
“But when you take them out in public, they are wearing masks. Why?”  
“Again, Miss Lennox, the world can be cruel.” His forehead creased as he said, his voice pained, “Just the other night I saw on the television that a small boy was kidnapped from his home. It pains me greatly to hear such things. I think I would die if any of my children were taken.”  
Cairee nodded, narrowing her sharp green eyes at him for a moment before she asked, “And why do you wear the mask, Mr. Jaceson?”  
He didn't answer. His hands, which were still folded, tightened.  
“Do you have something to hide?” Cairee pushed.  
The seconds prolonged a moment longer before he slowly lifted one hand. Cairee's breath caught in her throat as his fingers slowly took ahold of the glasses. He pulled them off in one quick motion, nailing her with a deep, dark gaze above the mask. Cairee's lips parted as she took in his eyes. They were large, and black, blacker than she had ever seen anyone's eyes be. They were traced by dark eyeliner and fringed by long, black lashes. What little skin she could see around his eyes was as white as his hands.  
For a long moment, he simply stared at her. She couldn't take her eyes off of his. She felt hypnotized by his gaze.  
“I have nothing to hide, Miss Lennox.” He said at last.  
“Then why don't you let people see your face?” She asked in a whisper, barely able to breathe.  
Disappointment crashed through her when he quickly replaced the sunglasses, cutting of her view of his beautiful eyes. “It's a matter of privacy, Miss Lennox. When the whole world is trying to pry into your life and watch your every move, you must keep something for yourself.”  
“Some would say everything.”  
“My, you've done a thorough job in researching me, haven't you?” He said. “But again, that isn't a question.”  
“Before your children came along, some thought you were homosexual. You've never had a woman in your life. What do you think about that?” Cairee asked, although the question was not in her notes either.  
This time she was sure he smiled. “And how would you know that I've never had a woman in my life, Miss Lennox?” He asked.  
“Like you said, I've done thorough research.” She answered before thinking that she was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions.  
She drew back when he suddenly stood from his desk. He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly made his way around the desk. “And where did you do this research?” He asked, snatching the tape recorder off the desk. He turned if off and tossed it back on the desk. Cairee watched the motion as she began to have the feeling that something was about to happen. Not necessarily bad, just something. He had said the interview would be ten minutes and it was now past ten minutes; however he was turning off the recorder but still talking to her.  
“Um,” She said as he came closer to her. “I, uh, have interviewed other people, and, uh, read things...” She finished weakly.  
“I see.” He said, softly, strolling behind her chair and suddenly stopping behind her. “In your opinion as a reporter, who is the best source of information on a subject?”  
Cairee squirmed in her chair. She could feel him standing directly behind her. His body heat was radiating towards her and she could smell his cologne... or was it perfume? It was a sweet fragrance, like fruit... What was it? Strawberries?  
“Um,” She whispered, trying not to think about how he smelled, “The a person I'm profiling... I guess...”  
“Mmm.” He said. She suddenly felt his hand on her shoulder and she almost jumped out of the chair, but her body was frozen. “And who are you profiling right now?”  
“You.” She squeaked.  
“And what is your professional opinion of me... Miss Lennox?” He drew out her name as if he were tasting the syllables on his tongue.  
Cairee could barely think now. Her mind was spinning but her tongue was tied in knots. Why couldn't she force herself to speak?  
She drew in a sharp breath when she felt his hand move from her shoulder to her throat. His fingertips began to stroke her pulse in her neck softly. Cairee thought she was going to stop breathing. Her heart was throbbing and so was something else. She squeezed her legs together, trying to cut off the sensation. She didn't even know who this man was or what he looked like. All she knew was what was in her research and what she had just witnessed. Why was she suddenly turned on?  
“Cairee.” He said, his voice soft. “Is that your name?”  
Cairee swallowed, trying to move her tongue. But her body would not cooperate with her brain's commands.  
“Cairee.” He repeated, his fingers pressing harder against her pulse before sliding down, inside the collar of her button-up white shirt. His long fingers reached the top button and she felt him slowly open it.  
“Mr. Jaceson.” She whispered. “I don't think-”  
“My name is Michael, Cairee.” He said. “Say it. Michael.”  
She swallowed again, before, whispering, “M-Michael.” She couldn't even think about why she was obeying him. She could only think about how sensual his name felt on her lips.  
His hand slid farther down, releasing another button. “How bad do you want to know about me, Cairee?” He asked. “You're a reporter. You must be terribly curious.”  
She nodded. “Yes, I am.” She whispered, unable to say anything more.  
“How would you like an exclusive?” He asked, opening a third button.  
“What.. What do you mean?” She asked.  
“For a price.” He went on.  
Her mind turned for a moment before the implications of his words made an impact. “But, I can't do that.” She replied.  
“Of course you can.” He said just as she felt his fingers brushing over the swell of her left breast. He teased at the edge of her bra, saying, “You're a renowned reporter, Cairee. What would people think if you got inside Michael Jaceson's head. Just think about the accolades, the awards, the promotions.” He went on his, voice hypnotic. “All from one night. And it would cost you nothing but a bit of willingness.”  
Cairee's mouth moved but nothing came out. Her mouth was completely dry, but between her legs was hot and wet, pounding hard in sync with her heart.  
She felt his hand move down to the front snap of her bra. He unlatched it smoothly before she could say anything. Her breasts spilled from the restraint and his hand immediately moved in to cup one. Cairee gasped when she felt his palm surround the flesh. Her nipple was hard and scraped against his flesh. He squeezed slowly, sending another wave of arousal through her.  
“I'll give you anything you want, if you give me anything I want.” He whispered to her, brushing his thumb of her nipple before pressing against it. Cairee felt a moan welling up in her throat. She wanted to say yes, God, how she wanted to. She couldn't think straight. She could barely concentrate on what he was saying, much less on refusing him.  
At last she whispered, “Does this mean I get to see your face?”  
She heard him chuckle softly, “Yes, Cairee, it does.”  
“Then yes.” She said without thinking.  
“Good.” His hand moved away and she heard a rustle of cloth. He was taking the mask off. Cairee wanted to turn around, but she didn't move. She had the keen sense that if she didn't do exactly as he said this deal would be off the table.  
She felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder again as he said. “I'm going to put my mouth on your breasts, Cairee, then I'm going to touch you.” She heard him draw in a deep breath, her own suddenly stolen from her lungs. “And then, I'm going to take you. Right here.”  
His bold statements left her dazed and wondering if she had made the right decision. But it was too late now.  
He came around the chair and knelt and in front of her, looking her in the eyes. The sunglasses were gone. The mask was gone. Cairee's lips parted as she once more became hypnotized by his gaze. She took in the rest of his face, noting his small, sculpted nose, and beautifully curved lips, darkened by lipstick. His jawline was sharp, but strong, and he had a small cleft in his chin. All of this, however, was secondary compared to his eyes. She couldn't stop looking at them, but at the same time they were almost too intense for her to continue gazing into.  
“Would you like that, Cairee?” He asked.  
She nodded, unable to speak.  
“Good.” He leaned forward and unbuttoned the rest of her shirt. He pushed the shirt and bra away from her breasts, framing them with his hands. Cairee shuddered as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. He slowly licked his lips, and drew his teeth over his lower lip before he leaned forward, bringing his mouth to one breast. Cairee's hands clamped down on the arms of the chair as she felt first his hot breath wash over her flesh and then the moist heat of his mouth surround her nipple. He sucked slowly, released the flesh, and then took it in again. His tongue pressed against her nipple inside his mouth and swirled around it before he continued to suck.  
Cairee's center was pounding. She could feel the wetness on her panties, and his pleasuring of her breasts was only exacerbating the reaction. A desperation began to tear at her mind. She hadn't had sex in a while. She was usually too busy with work to worry about a boyfriend or even casual sex. Now that it was before her, she found herself desperate for it. But not just sex. Him. Michael. A man who, before, had only been a project, a specimen under the telescope.  
He released her breast with a slick, wet sound and brushed his thumb over the moist flesh. “Did you like that, Cairee?” He asked, looking up at her with deep, dark eyes.  
“Yes.” She whispered, breathlessly.  
“Would you like more?”  
She nodded quickly, unable to make herself speak again.  
He leaned forward again, this time inclining his head towards her opposite breast. He parted his lips to take the fresh flesh into his mouth. He sucked once more before drawing back and using only his tongue to trace circles around the hardened peak. He started in wide circles before closing in slowly on the very tip of her nipple and suddenly biting at it. She gasped, her body arching against him. “Oh, God...” She whispered.  
“How about that?” He asked, his voice low. “Did you like that?”  
Her mouth was so dry that she could barely speak but she managed to whisper, “Yes.”  
“Good.” He rose from his kneeling position and ordered, “Stand up.”  
She pushed herself to her feet of rubbery legs. Her ankles wobbled on her five inch high heels. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her around so that she was leaning against his desk and he was standing between her legs. She noticed that he had an erection beneath his pants.  
He slid his hands down to the front of her pants and pulled them open. “What did I say I was going to do to you?” He asked, still looking down at her pants.  
“You said you were going to....” Cairee's voice failed her when she felt his fingertips brushing back and forth above her panties. “To... to touch me...” She finished weakly.  
“Mmmm.” He said as he slid his thumbs underneath the waistband of her panties and her slacks and pushed them down. Cairee felt like her legs were going to give out as the cool air rushed over her swollen center. She reached down and grabbed the edge of the desk, trying to hold herself steady.  
He brushed his fingers of the inside of her thigh and she shuddered, leaning hard against the desk. “Michael...” His name slipped from her lips on groan of desire.  
“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked, pressing his fingertips harder against her legs to scrape his fingernails over her flesh. She moaned, wanting to press her legs together to escape the erotic sensation.  
“Yes, please.” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.  
His nails scraped upwards before his touch went soft again as his brought his fingers to her center. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the desk and she bit hard at her lower lip. He massaged his fingers over her, making her part beneath his touch. Her lips parted in a silent cry as he rubbed his fingers up and down her slit. Wetness gushed onto his fingertips. She could feel her flesh throbbing against his touch.  
“You're wet, Cairee.” He murmured. “Very...wet...” He drew out the words causing a shudder to slide down her spine. “Do you want to come like this?” As he spoke, he pressed two fingers against her entrance, breaching her. She rose up on her toes, a strangled moan leaving her throat as he forced the two digits into her tight passage. Her muscles constricted about them and she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her.  
“Yes.” She whispered. “Please.”  
“Good.” He praised once more, moving his fingers in and out of her. Her legs quavered, falling farther apart. He stroked his other hand over her thigh, whispering, “That's good. Open. Open to me.”  
She moaned at his words, spreading her legs wider. His fingers pressed deeper into her with the position.  
He gripped the inside of her leg, and whispered, “I'm going to put another finger in you, Cairee, then I'm going to touch your clit and then...” He squeezed her leg harder and she opened her eyes to look in his dark gaze as he said, “Then you're going to come for me.” He immediately pushed a third finger into, stretching her tight passage. She groaned, her body arching against the desk.  
“Michael, oh, Michael, please...” She whispered. His promise to make her come only made her more desperate for the climax to come. She could only imagine pleasure that would be brought by his seemingly magical fingertips.  
He pumped his fingers inside her steadily for a few moments before she felt his thumb massage lightly around her clit. Her body clenched a long moan flowed from her lips. The ultimate and final pleasure was so close, she could almost feel it.  
“Shh, shh.” He hushed her as he brushed his lips over her cheekbone. His breath heated her ear as he whispered, “Just a few more moments. You're almost there.”  
The sound of his voice only served to arouse her further “Michael, please...” She groaned.  
He began to move his thumb in slow circles around her clit, causing waves of pleasure to wash over her. He kept his fingers inside her, giving a short thrust each time his thumb came through the downward motion of the circle. The two actions combined was almost too much to take.  
“Michael, please!” She cried out, the desperation now racing through every part of her body.  
He began to tighten the circle of his thumb, until he was pressing directly against her clit. He massaged for a few seconds causing her body to rise up off the desk. A strangled moan spilled off her lips and harsher wave of pleasure made her entire body stiffen. “No, no. Not yet.” He whispered, decreasing the pressure of his thumb, and easing her body back down against the desk.  
“Michael, please.” She cried, tormented.  
“Shh, In a moment.” He promised, moving his fingers inside of her. He left her clit untouched for a moment as he slid his fingers in and out of her. When he did touch her clit again, he pressed the harder tip of his thumb against her instead of the soft pad. A loud groan burst from her lips, and her hips rose against his hand. Cries and pleas spilled from her lips as he began to grind the tip of his thumb against her clit. The pleasure raced quickly back, building quickly with the motions of his fingers.  
“Yes,” He murmured to her. “Now, Cairee, now. Come for me.”  
Her body stiffened with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut, her face twisted in ecstasy. The climax suddenly slammed down upon her, seizing her in a moment of pleasure. Her muscles contracted deep inside and then the orgasm spread outward, causing her body to buck uncontrollably against him. She cried out, and moaned unintelligibly, writhing at the climax ravaged her for long seconds. At last, the pleasure began to decrease and she relaxed against the desk, breathing hard.  
Her mind was spinning, still trying to catch up to what had just happened. She was still trying to figure what he had been doing when he had turned off the tape recorder.  
He stepped away from her for a moment, and retrieved a Kleenex to clean his fingers with. He tossed in the trashcan and walked back to her, taking something from the desk as he returned.  
Cairee was just catching her breath when he held out his hand to her, showing her the object that he had just picked up. It was a condom.  
She lifted her eyes to his. She saw the hunger deep in his gaze, the same rampant desire that had torn through her only a moment ago.  
“Take it.” He ordered.  
With quivering fingers she took the package from him. She watched as he lowered his hands to the front of his pants. He slid the belt open as she noticed his erection pressing hard against the restraint of his pants. He unzipped the pants and let them drop to the ground.  
Feeling the desire suddenly taking her again, Cairee tore the condom open with weak fingers. She dropped the foil packet the ground as Michael removed his boxer briefs. She swallowed once more when she saw how big he was.  
He took her wrists and guided her hands to him, saying, “Touch me for a moment and then put the condom on.”  
Holding the condom in one hand, she reached out the other and slid her hand over the hardened flesh. She heard him draw in a deep breath and she brushed her fingers over his length. She felt her muscles deep inside clench deliciously. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him to make her orgasm again.  
She quickly took the condom and slid it over him, her heart pounding in anticipation of what was about to happen.  
He took her by the hips and pulled her closer to him. His tip found her wet folds and rubbed between them before he slowly pushed into her. The air nearly left Cairee's lungs and her breathing became erratic. She reached up to grip his shoulder and arm as he first began to grind his hips against hers. She moved her own hips against him, causing him to rub against her clit again. She held tighter to him as the pleasure began to mount quickly once more.  
He began to thrust suddenly. She could feel his muscles quavering. His breaths were coming heavily, soft moans accompanying each expelled breath. His pleasured sounds only caused her desire to run even deeper.  
His hips moved faster against hers, his long, thick column piercing her again and again. She could feel him stretching her, but it felt all too good. She slid one arm around his neck, clinging to him as the sensations began to multiply inside their bodies, connected by their bodies.  
“Oh, Cairee...” He moaned into her neck, sliding one hand from her hip to her buttock. He gripped the flesh hard, lifting and grinding her hips against his thrusts.  
The sound of her name of his lips caused a wave of pleasure to pass over her. Her body clenched about his hard, throbbing manhood and he moaned, thrusting harder, pulling her sharply against him.  
“Yes, yes, yes...” He gasped over and over, rocking his hips against her.  
Cairee's own moans mingled with his as she tilted her hips against his cock to feel his hardness rubbing against her clit. “Michael, Michael, oh, God!” She cried as their bodies connected harder and harder as they both felt the pleasure bearing down upon them.  
Only a few more laborious moments passed before Michael's body clenched with the onslaught of the orgasm. Just as his body began to quiver, Cairee's own muscles went taut. They both began to moan loudly as their hips jerked against each other. The desk groaned, sliding back a few inches as they quivered and cried, writhed and moaned.  
When at last, the climax declined, Michael stumbled back to the chair that Cairee had previously been sitting in. Cairee remained against the desk, leaning hard against the wood. She stared at the floor, trying to figure out how she had gotten from point A to point B.  
They were silent for a minute or two. Then Michael began to pull his clothes together, saying, “I believe I said exclusive.”  
Cairee looked up at him, “But... but you said it would cost me a night.”  
A mischievous half-smile formed on his lips. “Yes, Miss Lennox, I believe I did.”


	2. Project Derailed

When Cairee awoke the next morning, she was terribly confused. The bedsheets were soft and silken, but the smell of them was foreign. The sunlight was shining from the left side of the room, instead of the right like in her own bedroom.  
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking for a few seconds before it all came rushing back – the interview, the subsequent tryst in the office, and then... the night of wild, passionate sex.  
Cairee rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, overwhelmed. Now, in the light of day, she wasn't sure what she had let herself do. She had never even considered sleeping with a project before because it was just that – a project. Now, she had done it – more than once. Yes, most definitely more than once.   
Cairee frowned and looked over, expecting to find the man of her thoughts next to her, but the sheets were empty. He was gone, at least from the bedroom. What was to be done now? He had promised to give her and exclusive, but now he was no where to be found.  
Cairee sat up slowly and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She felt an immediate ache inside her, reminding her of just how good and satisfying last night had truly been. She pushed it to the back of her mind. She was Cairee Lennox, Bulldog of the the Times, and she had a job to do.  
Cairee found her clothing lying about the immaculate room in a heap. She took a moment to glance at the most private place of the reclusive Mr. Jaceson. Her editor would ask how she got a look into his bedroom, but Cairee could play it off. Cairee found her notebook and jotted a few things down, noting the black and red coordinating colors, and the varied paintings that hung on the walls, ranging from landscapes to portraits of children. Cairee ventured closer to one picture and stared at the three tiny faces that were smiling sweetly back at her.  
His children? She wondered, lifting a finger to run her nail over the smallest boy, who quite resembled Michael.  
She was so caught up in her perusing that the sound of the door opening gave her a scare. She jumped away from the picture, yanking her hand back quickly. She had a feeling that Michael wouldn't want her looking at his personal things without his say-so.  
Michael stood in the doorway, fully dressed in black slacks and a red button-up shirt today with a coordinating red, silk mask.  
“I see you're already awake.” He said, leaning against the doorframe and pinning deep, black eyes on her.  
“Yes.” Cairee said, and found her throat dry. She cleared it and straightened. How could she possibly make this less awkward? “I, uh, think we should sit down for another interview.”  
“Should we?” Michael's eyes narrowed and Cairee could all but feel the smirk emanating towards her from beneath the mask. A strange feeling curled in her stomach, a feeling of dread.  
“You promised an exclusive.” Cairee tried to say strongly, but she sounded weak and unsure.  
“I have something for you.” Michael stated and drew a hand out from behind his back.  
“What's that?” Cairee asked when he extended a piece of paper towards her.  
“Come see.” He said, and his eyes were dancing.  
Cairee slowly crossed the room and took the piece of paper. She read over his slowly, then again. The meaning of it didn't sink in fully until she was halfway through it again. Then the horrifying realization came.  
“This is a non-disclosure agreement.” Cairee said weakly.  
“Yes, it is.” Michael stepped past her, then circled her with his hands clasped behind his back. “You didn't think I would allow you to walk away without it, did you?”  
“But..” Cairee stared at the paper, feeling herself begin to shake. “This means I can't reveal anything that we've talked about.” She spun around, suddenly angry. “You tricked me!” She accused, balling up the piece of paper and tossing it at his chest. It bounced off and he barely flinched. He continued to watch her with dark, calculating eyes.  
“No.” He said slowly. “I gave you a chance to say no, and you didn't take it. You're a reporter, Miss Lennox, and a very fine one at that. You should've realized what you're agreeing to my advances meant.”  
“But....” Cairee sputtered once more, angry tears rising her eyes. “I have worked for months on this project and now you have just made all of it null and void!”  
He shook his head, his curls swinging on either side of his face. He clicked his tongue and stated, “I would say I'm sorry, but...”  
“You're not.” Cairee finished, vehemently. “You're a despicable man, Mr. Jaceson!”  
His brows rose sharply and his eyes crinkled shut. A chuckle emanated from beneath the mask and he eyed her with amusement. “Despicable? I don't think so.”  
“I do!” Cairee snatched up her notebook and began to march away.  
“You have to sign this, you know.” Michael said, picking up the non-disclosure agreement. “Security won't let you out without knowing that you have.”  
Cairee stopped in the doorway, her stomach reeling, her face hot with anger. “Fine.”She snapped, marching back. She rifled through her purse and came up with a pen. She grabbed the paper and planted it against his chest, using him a desk as she scrawled her signature on the bottom line. He watched her, standing very still until she finished.  
“Thank you, Miss Lennox.” He said, softly, taking it from her.  
She glared up at him. “I can see why no one wastes their time getting an interview.” She snapped.  
“A waste.” He said. “No, I don't think so.”  
“No, you got your rocks off and that's all you care about.” Cairee growled, shoving her pen into her purse.  
“Please don't think I do this to every reporter.”  
“Every reporter?” Cairee said. “You haven't had an interview in ten years.”  
“No.”  
“So.. why did you agree to see me if you were just going to do this?” Cairee asked, slowing for the first time to think.  
Michael sighed, his mask ruffling with the exhale. “Let me take you out to your car, Miss Lennox.”  
“You didn't answer the question.” Cairee said.  
Michael took her elbow and began to lead her towards the door, his grip firm. He took her down the stairs and through the foyer where the same beefy security man from the night before waited.  
“He will escort you the rest of the way.” Michael said, handing her off.  
Cairee wrenched her arm away and stood her ground. “Why?” She repeated.  
Michael sighed and looked away for a moment. “You were persistent.” He gave a shrug. “I thought that perhaps of all the reporters in the world, you might tell the truth.”  
“I would've.” Cairee stated. She had tears in her eyes again, and she couldn't believe it was all over in a few short seconds. “I will... if you let me.”  
His eyes lifted to her and his brows pulled together. He shook his head again at last. “I'm sorry, Miss Lennox, I truly am. But trust is hard to come by and my own personal security and that of my children is what I care most for.”  
“You're children are beautiful, Michael.” Cairee said, pushing back tears. “And you're hiding them from the world.”  
His eyes rounded slightly and then he turned away. “Maybe someday, Miss Lennox. Come back to me when you have more to give than a night of pleasure.”  
Cairee wanted to say something more, to proclaim that she did, but she just threw up her hands.  
She was led away to her car, still looking back. She could see Michael's slim frame retreating, his head bent. She moaned quietly, unable to believe that she had let this story slip through her fingers – although it was more of Michael's fault.  
His last words, however stayed with her. Come back...  
She was the only person who had gotten past those gates in the past ten years, and he had sent a veiled invitation, even as he sent her away, rejected. She could see sadness in those eyes, a story waiting to be told and she wanted to be the one who told it. She would be back here someday, she told herself, and next time, she would leave with the story. Michael could not sequester himself forever. She wouldn't let him.


End file.
